1 The God of glory walks His round,
From day to day, from year to year,
And warns us each with awful sound,
No longer stand ye idle here.
2 Ye, whose young cheeks are rosy bright,
Whose hands are strong, whose hearts are clear,
Waste no of hope the morning light;
Ah, fools, why stand ye idle here.
3 And ye, whose locks of scanty gray
Foretell your latest travail near,
How swiftly fades your worthless day;
And stand ye yet so idle here?
4 O Thou, by all Thy works adored,
To whom the sinner’s soul is dear,
Recall us to Thy vineyard, Lord,
And grant us grace to please Thee here.
Source: Gloria Deo: a Collection of Hymns and Tunes for Public Worship in all Departments of the Church #240